


The Killljoys Go to Michael's

by givethemanapie



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Inspired by FRIENDS, It's great I swear, they craft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givethemanapie/pseuds/givethemanapie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, the title kind of says it all. The Killjoys go to Michael's. Cuteness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Killljoys Go to Michael's

**Author's Note:**

> A friend did write the first few lines, but that's about it. This was very fun to write.
> 
> Still not much of a proof reader. Feel free to point out any grammatical errors ^^

The building was falling apart, but the Killjoys were too exhausted to stop anywhere else for the night. Guns ready, the four teenage loners stepped cautiously out of their car.

"See anything?" Party Poison kept his voice low. They were miles and miles away from Battery City, far enough that BLI wouldn't bother searching, but Poison was always on his toes about keeping himself and his friends safe. Kobra Kid, though, not so much.

"Nope! C'mon, let's check this place out!" Poison's little brother yelled as he excitedly ran up to the doors of the dusty building. "Get the kid out, it looks safe!"  
Poison huffed and nodded to Fun Ghoul, who opened the back car door and let out the little girl they had found next to a body in a gas station a few weeks ago. Once Jet had stuffed their things into body bags to take in, the four kids trudged up to meet the fifth, who was picking a rusted lock.

"Try lettin’ little Bangarang here help," Ghoul joked, playfully nudging the little girl forward. "She's gotta learn sometime."

Jet Star scowled at him. "We shouldn't name her, dude. We'll get atta-"

"Got it!" Kobra interjected. He pushed open the doors, and what the group saw inside utterly stopped them in their tracks.

What had on the outside appeared to be yet another empty warehouse was actually quite the opposite. The Killjoys found themselves facing row upon row of shelves filled with… craft supplies. Anything from paint, markers, canvas, and paper to clay, wooden sculptures, and stickers could be found. It was any six year old’s dream - so of course it was everything the Killjoys could have ever wanted (besides, you know, batteries, food, weapons, but whatever).

As expected, the first thing to catch Poison’s eyes was whatever the shiny stuff on the shelf in the corner was (it was glitter glue), and he was gone before anyone else could even say anything. Not that there was anyone left at the door, because there was apparently something there for everyone. 

Fun Ghoul had started wandering as soon as he stepped in the door. He had meant to be checking for any threats, but how could anyone focus on a boring task like that IN A FUCKING CRAFT STORE. He took a liking to the stickers - meaning he decided that he needed 500 packages - and immediately started tearing them off their little racks and putting them in a small basket he had conveniently found at the front of the building.

The first thing Jet Star did was make his way over to the check-out lanes. Where there were blinking lights, there were bound to be batteries. He got just a ~tad~ bit sidetracked when some of the clearance items at the end of each line happened to be star shaped stickers-or-encouragement; each little star had something like ‘Well Done!’ or ‘You’re a Star!’ written on it, and who wouldn’t just immediately think ‘These are perfect for showing my friends how well they’ve done at shooting guns at targets and killing them’.

Kobra Kid had somehow found himself in an aisle filled with small wooden carvings. Each one was different, and they all had little palates of color attached to them. He was going to move on, but then one of them caught his eye and he couldn’t help but think ‘this would be fuckin’ PERFECT for Poison, he would love it!’. So naturally he grabbed it and stuffed it in his bag. It didn’t really feel right to leave the others out, so he snagged a few more that he saw as fitting (even one for The Girl, of course). Some things are best kept secret, and what better way to lift his friends spirits with a few gifts? Which is why he wanted to wait until he had made them the best he could with what he had to give them out.

The Girl had started off in the direction Poison went, as per usual, but before she could catch up she noticed something. An aisle filled with nothing but paper, coloring books, and supplies to color said books. A (literal) six year old’s dream. She cautiously stepped into the shadows of the tall metal racks, because she was the only one who actually remembered that they didn’t know for sure if this safe or not. All her worries were swept away as she took in the sight that lay before her. Every color of the rainbow, and then some, lay before her. More colors than she had ever seen, even in her days riding with the Killjoys. All of them were, of course, a necessity. Because what good is it to have Flamingo Pink without Sea-Foam Green? None at all, obviously. Luckily enough, her bag was pretty empty, since she had left most of her belonging out with the car. Just enough room for a few (meaning upwards of 20) packages of markers, a couple boxes of crayons and colored pencil, a pencil sharpener, and around 30 or so coloring books/sketchpads. She vowed then and there that she would draw something special for each of her brothers, and give them as gifts so that they would be happy.

Eventually, everyone had gotten what they ‘needed’ and they managed to meet up back at the front door after only an hour or so. They all noticed each others slightly (okay way) fuller bags, but no one really said anything. Except Poison. He always had something to say, but not in a bad way.

“Guys look at this cool shit I found it’s glue but IT HAS GLITTER IN IT. CAN I PLEASE DECORATE OUR OUTFITS? PPLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSEEEEEE?” cue collective group sigh from everyone else, and…

“NO!”

“God, no!”

“You’re a fucking dumbass,”

“Sure! I’d love more glitter!”

Rang around the store all at the same time, each protest from Jet Star, Kobra Kid, Fun Ghoul, and The Girl - even though hers wasn’t really protesting - in that order. All they got in return was a small pout, and the small clatter of the bottle meeting the floor when it got thrown.

“FIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEE,” everyone else sighed in relief. “...but can I at least-” pause for a collective groaning noise. “No guys, let me finish. Can I just put a little on my outfit? Just mine? Pretty please with a cherri cola on top? Just look how bland and boring it is, like it was made to be-”

“Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want with your clothes, we can’t tell you what to do with that. Just please don’t go ape shit, ok? We’re Killjoys, leaders of a resistance. Not pretty little princesses with glittery crowns and shit!”

“Yessssssssssssssss,” and they didn’t see him again for another 20 minutes.

They decided to just pick an aisle to settle down in. Right as everyone was getting settled in, Poison returned, looking worryingly pleased with himself.

“What have you done now?” whispered Kobra, not really wanting to know the answer but figuring he needed to.

“I found a really cool thing a couple of shelves over that I think everyone will like. I hope. Probably. Whatever. Ta da!” he sang, pulling out a handful of flat white objects from   
behind his back with one hand. On closer inspection they appeared to be flat white masks, small enough to hide just the top half of your face, but still big enough to be noticeable. “Can’t forget this, either,” he said, pulling his other hand out from behind his back to reveal a few tubes of paint and some paintbrushes.

“That’s… actually a really good idea,” said Star, sounding surprised (a bit too surprised in Poison’s opinion. His ideas were always good!) His statement was echoed by the other two men lying there, albeit with slightly varying levels of enthusiasm.

When he wasn’t met with any complaints/protests/various sounds of annoyance, Poison began handing out colors and masks to each of his friends.

“So, I definitely feel like keeping everyone’s original colors, which mean green for Ghoul, Blue for Star, and Red for Kobra. We obviously can’t have repeats, because then we just look like idiots, so I’ll be yellow,”

“Yeah, yeah, just shut up and go to sleep. We need it,” Kobra said through a yawned, already rolling over and getting comfortable. The others followed suit. Everyone had almost managed to fall asleep when a soft voice spoke up.

“Good night guys,”

“Night Girl,”

“Sweet dreams, little lady,”

“Right back ‘atcha,”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,”

 

And that’s just another story of the Killjoys. One of many. It may be worth noting that everyone else woke up the next day to see Poison’s mask covered in paint and 3 big, glittery blue dots, but maybe not. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get to see them riding out along the dust, kicking and fighting, but still having fun all the way down. Whether their ghosts in the sand, or their bodies in the ground, these boys were heroes, no doubt about it. Inspirations to all us dune-crawling wannabes. To all us dust ridden fighters, trying to break down a system we think faulty. They’ll live on for a while that’s for sure. In their shadows and our hearts, they won’t ever die.


End file.
